


Block the Noise

by piginawig



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Established Relationship, Fix It Fic, Fluff, M/M, Richie trying to make himself better, Steve (minor), mild homophobia, post ch 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 08:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30052596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piginawig/pseuds/piginawig
Summary: Richie has a conversation with his newly ex-manager and Eddie doesn't like what he (over)hears.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 143





	Block the Noise

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a prompt from [nblesbianbenhanscom](http://nblesbianbenhanscom.tumblr.com/) on tumblr! Hope you enjoy!

Richie sat in his office chair, feet up on the bottom shelf of his desk, with absolutely zero patience left for the man in front of him. Steve was talking faster than Richie had ever heard him go, which was saying something, and for the most part it was all things he’d already said before. _Why are you giving up on a sure thing, why would you make this decision without consulting me, do you really think you’ll be able to be anyone with me?_

And Richie had answered ad nauseam. _I’m giving up a shitty act with shitty writers because it’s not me, and I’m sick of standing on stage and being an asshole every night, I fired my writers before I spoke to you because I knew you’d just scream at me anyway, I don’t know if I can be anybody without you – I don’t know if I even_ want _to be anybody anymore._

“I don’t know what’s gotten into your stupid fucking head, man, but this is a career killing move. You fire your writers, fine. We’ll find new ones, we’ll let you in the room while they write, whatever you fucking want. But firing me? I _made_ you, Rich. You haven’t done shit for yourself and suddenly you think you can hack it without a manager that does everything for you but wipe your ass? You’re out of your fucking mind.”

The footsteps outside the office didn’t even register in Richie’s mind until the already cracked open door began to move. He sat up, letting his feet hit the floor with a thud.

“What the fuck is going on in here?” Eddie asked, a furrow in his brow. He was glaring at Steve with an expression of such contempt that Richie almost felt bad for the man.

But that was a fleeting moment, because the snarling grin that overtook Steve’s face had Richie standing before words were even out of his mouth.

“What the fuck is _this_?” Steve asked, gesturing at Eddie. Eddie wore a t-shirt and joggers with plain socks, his usual weekend outfit, and had his arms crossed over his chest. Defensive. “Is this – what – did you let some fucking twink convince you that coming out is a good idea?”

“Who the _fuck_ –“ Eddie started, but Steve cut him off.

“Is this where you went? Your fucking personal emergency? Tell me, Rich, did he promise he’ll love you even after the backlash? Because he won’t, you dumbass, he’ll be gone as soon as the money dries up. I can’t believe you’d be so fucking stupid –“

“Don’t talk to him like that –“ Eddie said loudly, taking another step into the room, closer to Steve. The look on his face was murderous.

Richie wanted to tell Steve to take a few steps back, tell him that Eddie had killed a man with nothing but a glass water bottle, but he found himself unable to speak for the first time in memory. His heart was racing loudly in his ears, and he glanced back and forth between the two other men in the room.

“You’re a fling that’ll be gone in a month, man,” Steve said to Eddie, as though warning him away from Richie. His voice was cold and cruel, and Richie knew it was directed at him much more than it was at Eddie.

Eddie seemed to understand this, too. And with the knowledge that Richie had fired Steve the day before, he said, “Why are you even here? Are you actually so pathetic that you’d go to your ex-employer’s house and beg for your job back? Don’t you have other clients to get to? Or is your money going to dry up just as soon as Richie’s off your books?”

“You don’t know shit about me, you fucking –“

“What? I’m a fucking _what_ , man? A twink? That somehow put a spell on Richie to convince him to drop your ass and his misogynistic act? I think you need to fucking leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere –“

“He said leave, man,” Richie said, finding his voice. He swallowed thickly when both men turned to him. “It’s his house, too. You don’t work for me anymore. Get the fuck out.”

Steve looked speechless for a moment. Eddie stepped sideways until he was next to Richie. Just his closeness brought a sense of ease to his tightened chest.

“You’re going to regret this, Rich,” Steve said, before huffing an empty laugh. “But sure, I’ll go. Don’t call me when you realize how stupid you are.”

He grabbed the door and slammed it open against the wall on his way out. Richie waited until the sound of the front door closing echoed through the house before he looked at Eddie.

“I’m so sorry –“

“Fuck that dickhead,” Eddie huffed, seemingly not even hearing Richie’s apology. “Where the fuck does he get off saying shit like that?”

“I mean… He’s probably not wrong, Eds,” Richie said with a small shrug and smile. “My career is going to take a huge hit when I come out, and there’s a reason I hired ghost writers in the first place… In case you missed it, I’m not that funny.”

Eddie frowned at him, looking almost angry. “Where the fuck do _you_ get off saying shit like that?”

“Um, what?”

Eddie took a step closer to him, finger pointed at his chest. “You’re hilarious, and the reason you had ghost writers was because you couldn’t naturally connect with a straight dudebro audience. But you’re not going to be trying to appeal to the same people anymore, are you? So shut up and write your own shit! You’ll find a new manager, everything’s going to be fine. And that fuckin’ guy is going to eat his words.”

Eddie poked him in the chest for good measure, then turned on his heel and stomped out of the room. Richie heard his footsteps down the hallway; it sounded like he went to the living room. A little shaken, he followed to find Eddie seated on the couch with a scowl on his face.

He stopped in the doorway of the living room and leaned against the wall.

“I am sorry you had to hear all that,” he said after a few moments of silence.

Eddie gave him a confused look. “You’re not the one that called me a fucking twink luring you away from job security, Richie.”

“Well you _are_ a twink,” Richie said, grinning a little at Eddie's eye roll. “That’s not an insult. I just wish you hadn’t heard all that shit. You’re… You don’t deserve to deal with the fallout from my shitty career choices.”

“You don’t either, Rich,” Eddie said seriously.

“I don’t think that’s quite true,” Richie said lightly, trying out a shrug. Eddie’s expression didn’t lighten. ”Think about this from an outsider’s perspective, Eds. I made a career out of masturbation jokes and objectifying fake girlfriends. An apology is just the beginning of making up for all that shit.”

“You didn’t write any of that! Stop apologizing for other people! You’re not the shitty one!”

“It doesn’t matter that I didn’t write it! I went onstage every single night and said it! I said it on TV and I repeated the same old shit when I met fans and I – I fucking _profited off of it,_ man. I used it, Eds, and that’s just as bad.”

Eddie looked like he wanted to say more. His mouth opened a few times, only to close again, sadness taking over the shine in his eyes. It made Richie’s stomach churn to watch his face. It was disappointment.

“Look –“

“I stand by what I said; you’re not a shitty person. You did some shitty things because you were – well, for the same reasons I did shitty things. Because we were alone. Because we forgot. It doesn’t excuse it, you’re right. But you’re not going to get anywhere if you keep this attitude where you think of yourself as the worst person to grace the planet. You’re trying, and you’re changing, and that _counts_ , okay?”

Richie swallowed thickly. He nodded, not trusting his voice. Eddie stood again, making the short walk to where Richie stood. Richie stared resolutely at the ground until Eddie’s hands cupped his face, carefully tilting his jaw until their eyes met. Eddie still looked a little sad, but he was close, so close that their breaths mingled in the air between them.

Eddie pressed forward, lightly kissing Richie’s lips. Richie sighed, his hands coming to rest on Eddie’s waist.

“Can I say something really embarrassing and vulnerable for a second and then we never talk about it again?”

Eddie laughed a little. “Everything you say is embarrassing,” he joked, then, “but yeah, go ahead.”

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Rich,” Eddie whispered, smiling. “You, too. For me.”

“Okay, let’s be done now,” Richie said quickly, and Eddie burst into a startled snort.

“ _Richie_ ,” he chided, but he couldn’t stop laughing enough to make it sound serious.

“No, really,” Richie insisted, pulling Eddie’s hips closer to his own. “Let’s forget this exchange altogether and just make out.”

“You’re impossible,” Eddie told him, but didn’t pull away. Richie just looked at him with his best puppy dog eyes. Eddie stared him down, but only lasted a few moments before breaking into a smile. “Fine. Let’s make out.”

Richie grinned, grabbing Eddie’s hand and dragging him to the couch, where they fell onto the cushions, forgetting everything but each other.


End file.
